Chapter 211: Shizun, Let's Enter Mount Jiao

They abandoned their horses and entered the mountain. The first day was safe and sound, but on the second night, when everyone was sitting in meditation to rest, something unexpected happened.

A cultivator went to the jungle to relieve himself in the middle of the night. After he was done, he felt an itch in his leg. He looked down and saw a huge poisonous mosquito resting between his legs, happily drinking his blood. That cultivator slapped the mosquito to death. In the end, he muttered out of habit, "Motherf * cker, you dare to sting me, your grandfather."

As soon as he finished speaking, he heard strange noises coming from the surrounding forest. The cultivator was startled. He suddenly remembered what Nangong Si had warned him before he entered the mountain. He was so scared that he didn't even have time to pull up his pants. He ran wildly, shouting, "Save me, Shizun! Save me! "

It turned out that this person was one of the disciples of Jiang Dongtang who served as Huang Xiaoyue's attendants. His loud cry for his father and mother was like a huge rock falling into a deep pool, stirring up a thousand ripples. Everyone who was originally quietly sitting in meditation stood up one after another. They saw a Jiang Dongtang cultivator running madly from a distance, scared out of his wits.

This person was bare-chested. He shook his penis, crying and running at the same time. Behind him were at least a hundred small black snakes, some of which had already wrapped around his legs.

Huang Xiaoyue was alarmed. "Disciple?"

Nangong Si said, "Don't go over!"

That disciple cried as he ran over, but more and more snakes wrapped around him. In the end, he staggered and fell to the ground. He wailed, "Shizun! Shizun, save me! "

Huang Xiaoyue originally wanted to lend a helping hand, but Nangong Si said, "These snakes are formed from the dragon's whiskers. If you kill one, it will turn into two. The more you kill, the more there will be. Moreover, they are extremely vengeful. If Huang Daozhang isn't afraid, then go and fight. "

When Huang Xiaoyue heard this, she immediately cowered, but she muttered, "The big picture is more important, the big picture is more important." Seeing his disciple being swallowed up by the tide of black snakes, that person writhed and rolled in the snake tide, twisting and turning in pain. The snake tide had completely covered him, turning him into a black mound. This mound was shrinking at a speed visible to the naked eye. When the tide dispersed, there was only a pool of blood on the ground, not even a bone was left …

Once this matter was made known, no one dared to utter a single word of nonsense on the last day of the journey.

The more one talks, the more mistakes one makes. This was a principle that everyone knew.

Xue Zhengyong even cast a Silence Spell on himself and Xue Meng. Not for any other reason, but because the father and son were too talkative. If they accidentally muttered the word "dog", they would become the snake's meal in the blink of an eye.

Everyone was cautious with their words and actions. Finally, in the middle of the third night, they passed through the Coiling Dragon Mountains and arrived at the hero's mound of the Confucian Wind Sect — Jiao Mountain.

Jiao Mountain's barrier was different from Huang Mountain. The Jiao Dragon hated deception, so the barrier was transparent. There was no illusion technique, so from the outside, one could clearly see the scene at the foot of the mountain.

Jiang Xi looked at the situation in front of him and asked, "This is the burial place of the Confucian Wind Sect's heroes?"

The moonlight shone on Nangong Si's face. He was silent for a moment, then said, "Yes."

Jiao Mountain was transformed by the Demon Dragon. After the first generation of the Confucian Wind Sect subdued this dragon, they established a blood contract, turning it into a mountain to protect the heroic souls and treasures of the Confucian Wind Sect, as well as the ancestral temple and ancestral hall.

Since Nangong Si could remember, he would follow his father to this mountain to sweep the tombs every Winter Solstice. In the past, when he came here, he could see endless majestic white marble steps. Dark City guards had already been waiting on both sides of the mountain road. Their clothes fluttered in the wind.

"We respectfully welcome the Young Master."

He could still vaguely hear the rumbling of voices as everyone knelt down. He walked along the mountain road, and at the top of the mountain, he could see his father preparing for the sacrificial ceremony.

"Young Master Nangong, there's no need to be sentimental. The war cannot be delayed. You should open the barrier as soon as possible, so that we can enter and slay the demons."

Nangong Si turned his head. The one who spoke was Huang Xiaoyue.

During the Confucian Wind Sect's heyday, even if Nangong Si was on a whim and gave him ten slaps for no reason, he still wouldn't dare to talk back.

Today, he could brag and show off in front of his ancestors' tombs.

Nangong Si endured silently. He had no choice but to endure.

His teeth clenched painfully, but he had to endure with all his might.

"Everyone, back off a bit." He said as he arrived in front of the mountain gate.

There stood two Tomb Guardians made from evil-warding spirit stone. Just their toes were the size of a five or six year old child. These two idols each had three faces, either benevolent or angry. They each held a magic tool in their hands and had bracelets around their arms. But the strange thing was that this kind of idols usually had their eyes wide open, but this pair of idols had their eyes closed and their eyebrows furrowed. They looked somewhat strange.

Nangong Si didn't even blink. He pierced his finger with an arrow and drew a talisman on the evil-warding spirit stone. Then he said, "Confucian Wind Sect's seventh generation Blood Origin Sect disciple, Nangong Si, pays respect."

Rumble!

The earth shook.

A strange person exclaimed, "They opened their eyes! That statue! "

Mo Ran stood in the crowd and also looked up.

If the situation wasn't so tense, he really wanted to say to that person, "It's not that statue, it's those two statues."

The two Tomb Guardians on the left and right opened their eyes. Their eyes were amber and their pupils were narrow, like the eyes of a snake.

The statue on the left slowly spoke, his voice like a large bell, ringing out, "Nangong Si, have you memorized the seven precepts of the Confucian Wind Sect?"

Nangong Si said, "Greed, resentment, murder, prostitution, and plunder are the seven precepts of the Confucian Wind Sect."

Huang Xiaoyue sneered behind him, "You speak better than you sing."

It wasn't just Huang Xiaoyue, but many people were thinking the same thing. These seven precepts were the greatest mockery to the current Confucian Wind Sect.

The statue on the right followed with a distant voice that seemed to come from ancient times, "Nangong Si, there is a mirror hanging high above, and there is the boundless yellow springs below. You walk the world, do you have a clear conscience?"

"A clear conscience."

These two questions were Nangong Si's memories from childhood to adulthood. No matter who it was in the Nangong Family, as long as they stepped into the [Hero's Mound], they had to first answer these two questions.

The first generation of the Confucian Wind Sect set up these two questions in the hope that the later generations of the family would remember the teachings of their ancestors and reflect on themselves when they went up the mountain to worship.

At this moment, Nangong Si couldn't help but wonder, every year when his father came to worship at the Winter Solstice and answered these two questions, did he ever feel the slightest trace of guilt?

Or did he really treat these questions and answers as a key, a talisman to open the enchantment of the Flood Dragon Mountain? Nothing more.

The enchantment opened.

The two stone statues that were originally standing suddenly shook slowly and changed their posture. Finally, they knelt on one knee, one on the left and one on the right.

"Please, master, enter the mountain."

Nangong Si stood with his back to the crowd for a while. No one could see the expression on his face, not even Ye Wangxi.

Only Naobaijin whimpered in his quiver. Her snow-white claws reached out and grabbed the edge of the quiver, "Meowww, meowww — —"

"Come in."

Nangong Si finally dropped these three concise and comprehensive words. Then he took the lead and stepped into the Flood Dragon Mountain area.

Xue Zhengyong removed his Silence Spell and asked, "Do we still need to pay attention to our words and actions here?"

"No need." Nangong Si said, "Speaking and acting cautiously is done in the Coiling Dragon Mountain area. In fact, it is to prevent people who have malicious intentions towards the Confucian Wind Sect from entering the mountain. Here, the Flood Dragon believes that the person who comes should not be an enemy, so it will not care about the words and actions. "

But even though he said so, many people were still worried and did not want to say anything. They just silently followed Nangong Si up the mountain. Every three hundred meters, there would be two totem stones of the twelve zodiac signs. First were the male and female mice, then the male and female ox, tiger, rabbit … Halfway up the mountain, it was the burial ground of the heroes of the Confucian Wind Sect.

These heroes were buried in the Flood Dragon Mountain according to their lifetime contribution, from low to high.

The first place they came to was the burial ground at the lowest level.

There was an eight foot tall piece of white jade here. It was shining brightly and engraved with the names of people. At the top, there were four words, "Loyal Soul".

"I heard that the loyal servants of the Nangong family are buried here." Xue Meng whispered to Mo Ran, "There should be at least a thousand of them."

He was right. This mountain area was densely packed with tombs. There was no end in sight.

Shi Mo said worriedly, "What if these thousands of servants all rise up? What should we do? The servants of the Nangong family are not bad. I'm afraid they can hold them back for a while. "

Xue Meng hurriedly covered his mouth, "Shh, are you crazy? Hurry up and spit, don't jinx — —"

Mo Ran said gloomily from the side, "I'm afraid it really isn't a jinx."

"Hey, dog, where are you going?"

Mo Ran did not pay attention to Xue Meng. He left the group and walked to the burial ground of the loyal souls. He half knelt down and carefully looked at it.

The burial ground of the Confucian Wind Sect's heroes was different from ordinary funerals. It did not have a burial ground. Instead, it used a kind of translucent jade coffin. It was like a thick layer of ice. Half of the coffin was submerged in the ground while the other half was exposed. Therefore, the burial ground looked like a continuous stretch of jade that emitted a sparkling brilliance under the moonlight.

This kind of cold jade was similar to the mortuary coffin of the Hall of Life and Death, Frost Sky Palace. It could preserve the corpse and prevent it from decaying, just like when it was still alive. Mo Ran lowered his head to look at the coffin in front of him. Burial mounds were not taken care of too carefully. Therefore, the surface of the jade coffin was covered with a thick layer of dust. Mo Ran could only vaguely see the outline of the deceased below. He could not see the facial features, but it seemed to be a woman.

He stared at the woman for a while. Then, he looked around the coffin again.

He felt that there was something wrong with this coffin.

But he could not tell what was wrong.

He looked around. While no one was paying attention, he put his hand on the coffin and closed his eyes to feel it carefully …

Suddenly, his palm trembled.

Mo Ran opened his eyes. His expression was extremely ugly.

There was indeed evil energy in this coffin, but it was not dense. The precious chess piece was not inside … Could it be that he was wrong?

"Mo Ran!" Xue Meng and the others were already far away. They shouted at him from afar.

Mo Ran whispered to himself, "I'll be right there."

His slender hand rubbed the surface of the coffin inch by inch, wiping off the thick layer of dust. He tried to see the woman's appearance more clearly without opening the coffin.

As he was wiping, he suddenly saw a detail from the corner of his eyes. He stopped abruptly.

He knew what was wrong.

Dust.

The dust of this coffin was not right!

Besides the area that he had just wiped, Mo Ran suddenly found that there was another place that was not dusty — on the side of the coffin, there were four marks of different lengths. He hesitated for a moment and reached out to compare them. He found that it was exactly the place where a person would climb out. Except for the thumb, the other four fingers would touch!

Mo Ran was frightened. Just as he was about to ask everyone to stop going up the mountain, he suddenly felt a cold and wet air in front of him.

He raised his head abruptly and was met with a deathly pale face.

A woman in shroud was squatting behind a tombstone, staring at him faintly.